𝚅𝙸 - 𝙵𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚎

                                    

                                          

H.H.S.A Guidebook for New Inhabitants
Originally published  in 803 A.D by V. Atticus
Edition 34
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6. You cannot intentionally heal a Soul Anomaly. 
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☥ ☥ ☥
I came to the next morning thinking I was in my own room. I opened my eyes and saw the same tan bedsheets from when I first moved on that I never bothered to change, same threadbare desk in the corner. It was only after I sat up that something felt off. 
It was cold. Why had I gone to bed shirtless? Where were all my books on the ground? Had I tidied up last night or something? 
Last night... 
I sat up and nearly fainted when I laid eyes on the scene of the crime. 
None other than Ryuzaki was asleep beside me, hair plastered everywhere and mouth agape. I leapt out of bed, aghast, and wave of dizziness fell over me. I lost my balance, and fell on the floor with a loud thump.
"Who is it?" Ryuzaki called hoarsely, beginning to stir. "Above? Why are y—" 
The colour quickly drained from his face. 
"Fuuuuuckkk..." I rolled over on my back to shield my eyes from the sunlight filtering through the window. Through the pounding in my head, I tried to recall yesterday's events. 
I... with Ryuzaki...
A second wave of horror flooded me.
What happened after we left the roof? I had some hazy memories of us stumbling downstairs, mixed with lurid details of behaving in the most depraved, ungodly manner possible. But everything after that was a mystery to me. 
Wait. 
"Above, did we...?" Ryuzaki's voice trailed off, having arriving at the same conclusion. 
"I-I don't know..." 
Ryuzaki was equally mortified, but he wasn't looking at my face, rather —
I remembered I was shirtless and jumped, scrambling to find my sweater. It was by the floor and I hastily threw it on, embarrassed out of my mind. 
"Well, my clothes are still on, so we couldn't have done anything, right?" Ryuzaki said, and then groaned. "Ugh... my head hurts..."
I managed a little grimace. "Hangovers. Fun, huh?" 
I hauled myself up onto my feet, grabbing the bed for support, and wobbled over to Ryuzaki's bathroom. I splashed some water on my face, and then gazed at my reflection in the mirror. I realised my heart was racing.
I looked like shit, pretty much. Fucked-up hair, bags under my eyes, crumpled sweater. I felt like shit, too. Oh, but it was nothing compared to the damage I'd just done. 
Look, I may have died lovelessly at seventeen and I may be a recluse, but this isn't my first time waking up in someone else's bed after a night of drinking. I had several flings in my early years here. But this, this is a whole new level of fuck-up. I mean, what do you even do? I stared at my reflection, revelling in the absurdity of my predicament. 
Our relationship was already convoluted enough, and now I've gone and kissed the bastard. More than kissed. What a joke. I couldn't think of my situation as anything less than absurd. 
"...You okay?" The absurdity asked. Ryuzaki was standing by the bathroom entrance, looking just as disheveled.
"No." I said. "Are you?"
"I guess not. But you look as if you've seen a ghost." 
"I am a ghost. And so are you." 
"...How philosophical."